


Jon in the Afternoon

by Monsterunderkilt



Series: The Manse [52]
Category: Actor RPF, Celebrities - Fandom, RPF - Fandom, Real Person Fanfic - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Monsterunderkilt
Summary: The First Husband and I steal some time alone
Series: The Manse [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209447





	Jon in the Afternoon

One fine, strangely hot February afternoon, I find myself holed up in one of the empty Guesthouse apartments. It’s empty but for two souls, and dark save the crisp light bouncing through the floor-to-ceiling window in the bedroom facing out on the glassine ocean below. It fleetingly feels as if there’s not another single person on planet Earth. I’m in bed, wrapped in nought but a single sheet, sitting back against the headboard and staring out at the calm scene of solitude.

“When should we come clean?”

After a long blink, trying to hold on to the bright perfect afterimage behind my eyelids, I turn my gaze toward the bathroom, where Jon is standing in only his boxers and an undershirt, eyes questioning me as he brushes his teeth. I sigh and return my stare out the window. “We don’t have to.”

Jon grunts and goes back to the sink.

Ever since the husbands and I mutually decided to re-institute “the schedule,”one unexpected side effect of it has been my constantly vacillating sense of mood for the company of my men every evening. Jon and Stephen being my senior husbands, they suggested that perhaps my honeymoon with Ken had lasted long enough, and that a regular rotation should be the norm again. It’s been going for a few weeks now, and I can’t quite get myself into the rhythm. Some nights, I can’t even decide if I want to spend my sleep in my bed or in my husbands’, and I’m wondering if that’s annoying them at all.

Jon comes out of the bathroom and crawls back into bed with me. I cuddle against him, resting my head on his chest, so I can listen to his steady heartbeat as he idly massages my bare shoulder and back. I grab his other hand and interlock my fingers with his. “I know this technically counts as an affair,” I say softly, as if someone else could overhear. “But it’s not a judgement on my other husbands at all.”

“Believe me when I say,” Jon says, twiddling his thumb with mine, “if someone had asked me which one of us you’d most likely end up having ‘an affair’ with, I wouldn’t have guessed correctly.”

“Oh Jon,” I say, sitting up to face him. I take his hands and hold them against my chest. “You’re the First Husband now. I know I can rely on you if all else feels unstable in life. Of course you’re the one.”

Jon blushes. He smiles with disbelief. It’s true though. We’ve had our little secret afternoon trysts on days that weren’t his. The Manse is large enough to conduct such things under everyone’s nose, and I’ve admitted to myself several times that it’s too fun to resist a harmless dishonesty.

I hold his face between my palms and kiss him tenderly. My heart melts. I’ve missed him so much for so long, this just makes sense.

He shakes his head and grins with bemusement. “Why me though?”

“Because I know you best. You don’t surprise me. I mean that in the best way.”

Jon laughs. “I’m the security blanket.”

“Nothing wrong with that. We all need one.”

He nods and his eyes search their sockets. “So what is Stephen?”

“A random cocktail that’s almost too sweet but still craveable.”

“And that makes Ken—”

“A favorite shoe that makes me feel fancy and confident.”

Jon smirks at first, but then shrugs. “I don’t think I get it. Am I at least made of some expensive cashmere blend or something?”

“Yes. Beautiful, warm, soft... _gray_ cashmere.” I wink at him. “I love you, Jon.”

“Love you too, bubbe.”

I cuddle with him again and we both stare out the window framed by the room’s relative darkness.

I smile and sigh, reaching down to tickle Jon’s knee, but not too much. He’s very ticklish. “I find it hilarious that Stephen always jokes about how you’re an old man, and that inevitably gets folded into his amazement that you have any libidinous tendencies at all.”

_“What?”_

“He doesn’t poke fun at you ever? Doesn’t express any comical level of disbelief that we still engage in marital relations? He seems to think my nights with you are spent watching nature documentaries.”

Jon’s entire face wrinkles into a mask of bewilderment. “I’m only 17 months older than him! And Ken is older than both of us! Clearly age is not a factor diminishing anyone’s chances at getting lucky around here.”

I can’t help but giggle and snort at his reaction. “Stephen can’t help letting Col-bear slip out every so often.”

“I’ll show him who gets the Madam’s engines revving,” he says under his breath. “But seriously, tell the truth: why are you bringing us back into the fold? You just need a break from all the Shakespeare sometimes don’t you?”

I gape at him. “I _love_ all the Shakespeare!”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know old William is the greatest wordsmith in the English language—To be or not to be, Once more unto the breach—and Sir Ken is the handsome elder statesman patron saint but... _come on_.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I stare him down. “Come on _nothing_. Just accept that I keep you and Stephen around because I am in love with you, not solely to provide a foil for an exalted knight.”

He tugs me back into a hug and kisses my hair.“I’m just teasing, Madam.”

I tickle his pupik and he instantly folds into a fetus.

“Alright, alright, uncle, uncle!”


End file.
